Services, PLC, and Regency Portfolio, Ltd.,
was made by a service which files, for a fee, the necessary incorporation papers with the local company registrar. Following an
enquiry, the service claimed that they were asked over the phone
to incorporate the two companies. A messenger brought them
the papers ready for filing, with both a money order made out to
the company registrar and $75o in cash for their service fee.
That was smart, I thought. Two companies were incorporated in
Australia and one in the Seychelles, as an "international company" - one
whose shareholders, directors, and beneficiaries were almost impossible
to identify.
The Australian service company claimed they had no idea who
the clients were. A search in our database of the two names listed
as directors of the two Australian companies showed that there
are 57 individuals named H. G. Andrews and 23 individuals carrying the name Sheila McAllister. We should interview all these
people in the near future.
A waste of time, I muttered to myself. It was all bogus. I'd been there
before. These guys knew how to hide their traces. The report concluded
by saying that the banking information would follow in a few days. I gave
the report to Lan, the office secretary. "File it in the new Eagle Bank file
... in the cemetery section."
She raised her eyes and smiled. "Dead end?"
I nodded.
Two days later another fax came in from Jim Lion attaching another
report from AUSTRAC. On May 13, 2001, two men had come into the First
Caledonian Bank of Australia in Sydney to open a commercial account
for Sling & Dewey Goods and Services, PLC. The bank's officer handling new accounts demanded picture ID from the two men, which was
standard procedure. One man showed him an Australian ID card that,
upon later investigation, was determined to be a forgery. The address
printed on the card, it turned out, was an empty lot. The second man presented the U.S. passport of one Herbert George Andrews, born in
Denver, Colorado, on January 23,1950. Passport number G967781117. No
address was given to the bank.
At last, here was something to work on. I called the Bureau of Consular
Affairs at the State Department. Once I'd given them the passport
number, I was transferred to Security. Following a quick computer search,
a courteous woman told me that the number was a fake. I was about to
thank her and hang up when she added, "You may want to check this out
with the FBI. I've got a computer message here that all inquiries
regarding this passport should be referred to them."
Next, I was on the phone with Donald Romano, FBI special agent. I'd
never dealt with him before, and he sounded very reserved.
"Yes, we have a record of this passport as being forged."
"Is there an ongoing investigation?"
"I can't tell you that," he said, cordially but firmly.
"Why?"
"It's classified. Need-to-know basis."
"I need to know. I'm an investigating attorney for the DoJ."
"You still need clearance," he insisted. There was no point in arguing
with him. I had been through this bureaucracy before. I called David
Stone and asked him to get me a clearance. I told him about the progress
I'd made and he said, "I'll get back to you."
Several hours later David called. "You've stepped into a highly sensitive
matter," he said in a telling-you-a-secret tone. "I had to do a bunch of haggling to get you access. And you have to come to Washington to do so, because they refuse to allow the file to be photocopied or removed from
the building."
"Okay," I said, wondering why a forged passport was highly classified.
The following morning I went to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building.
Located on E Street between Ninth and Tenth, it's a huge building occupying an entire city block.
Special Agent Donald Romano met me at the entrance, checked my
ID, and walked me through security. He led me to an empty conference
room, left me sitting there for a minute, and returned with a governmentstock